


Volatile Compound

by Zombieheroine



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Communication Failure, First Date, Gladiators, M/M, Pits of Kaon, Political, Political Debates, Pre-Slash, Pre-War, Violence, casual affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/pseuds/Zombieheroine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron and Orion Pax spend a lot of time together, dreaming of revolution and swapping ideas while struggling with their warm feelings towards one another. Megatron wants to show Orion his world and help him understand it better, so he invites him to see a proper match in the Pits of Kaon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volatile Compound

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading Transformers: Exodus by Alex Irvine and I really wanted to explore Megtaron and Orion's relationship and also write a really cool gladiator match so I brought the ideas together and this came out.  
> Fun fact: the working title was "From Kaon with love".
> 
> This text was beta-read by my lovely and wonderful friend who is endlessly patient. Check out her amazing art on her tumblr: nappi.tumblr.com!

Orion Pax hadn't really thought about the flourishing gladiator culture of Cybertron before he heard Megatronus of Kaon through the Grid for the first time. He had known enough that he knew he disapproved, and after he had started to think about their society more his disapproving turned into active objecting. 

The waste of lives and taking enjoyment in watching the massacres in the pits were unspeakably horrible to Orion, and he wasn't afraid to tell so to Megatron when they walked the dark and filthy streets of Kaon together. 

Megatron laughed and threw a brotherly arm around Orion's shoulders. 

”Of course you would think so, librarian!” he said with good-willed laughter that Orion couldn't bring himself to feel insulted by. 

”What is it if not cruelty, then?” he countered, curiosity triumphing his modest manners.

”Oh, it's cruelty alright,” Megatron said and became more serious. ”The Pits are a symbol of oppression where the elite come to laugh when we who they have cast into misery die for their amusement.”

Orion was puzzled. ”Then you agree with me?” 

”Well, on the point, yes,” Megatron admitted shrugging, and then gave his companion a devious look that made Orion's spark swirl. 

”But I don't think you fully understand them, either,” the gladiator went on with all the pride of his occupation. ”You haven't felt the thundering applause of the crowd, the heat of a battle or the burning lust for victory. You don't know what it means to feel invincible!”

He clutched his servo into a fist and straightened to his full height. Orion didn't understand how those feelings his friend was talking about could be desirable but didn't say that out loud, just smiled and looked forward on the crowded lane. 

”You're right, I haven't,” he admitted. “But I still can't imagine anything that would wash away the spilled energon.”  
Megatron chuckled and shrugged again. ”A simple wash-rack is enough, believe it or not.”

Despite the morbid nature of the joke, Orion found himself laughing.   
Megatron watched him with a pleased smile for a short moment, then suddenly spun around and stepped in front of him bringing them both to a halt.   
Orion jumped when Megatron grabbed him by both of his shoulder and stared into his optics with the gleam of a suddenly appeared idea. People parted and walked around them like they were an invisible force midst their stream, and Orion felt as if they were the only two bots in the world.

”You must come and see a proper duel of Kaon!” Megatron announced. ”You simply must. You will understand then. I'm not asking for your approval or admiration – that is beyond me – but just come there and see for yourself.”

Orion could only blink. Megatron's blue optics were wide and alive with frenzy and when he got like that there was no use denying him. Not that Orion could do so even without that, he thought to himself when he nodded in agreement. 

*

The match was nothing like Orion had imagined: it was actually worse. He was sitting in the audience in the middle of a wild crowd that was cheering and roaring and trampling the stands.

Down in the pit there were four gladiators. Today they were fighting in teams of two and were playing a violent, dead-serious version of catch the flag.

In both sides of the arena stood three twelve-feet-tall iron bars with sharpened tips and a coloured flag tied around each. The idea of the violent game was – as Megatron had explained to Orion before hand – to protect your own flags while fighting through the enemy defense, steal each one of their flags, bring them back on your side and pierce them on the bars of your own, one on each. The winning team was either the one which captured all three enemy flags or, obviously, the one left alive. 

Megatron was armed with his signature weapon, a heavy, flat sword with a deep fuller in the middle of it and just bringing the infamous blade to the arena made the crowd roar. Orion watched as Megatron made a show out of presenting his blade and waved it around himself in a few complicated maneuvers.   
He was paired with the nimble Soundwave, who stalked around their side seemingly unarmed but carrying a selection of hidden blades.

Their flags were purple.

Against them stood a pair of heavy-built bots, one of them with a scratchy red paint-job decorated with dried up energon stains, wielding two swords and a fifth limb, a sharp-tipped tail, and the other one blue and gold with horns on his helm, stern look on his face and daringly under-armed with only one thin dagger barely the length of his arm.  
They went by names Stinger and Dreadwing and they didn't look any less likely to win than Megatron and Soundwave did. 

Their flags were red. 

Orion worried. He was on the edge of his seat and almost leaning over the railing. The whole arena had quieted down after the gladiators had presented themselves and everyone waited for the match to begin.

The four gladiators raised their weapons and pointed them at the opposing side.  
”One shall stand, one shall fall!” yelled four voices in unison.  
The crowd exploded in roars and the noise knocked Orion's audio offline for a moment, and the match begun.

*

”I would preserve the weak,” Orion said, tossing an energon cube from servo to another, thoughtful.  
Megatron didn't look surprised, but doubtful. ”Why so?” he asked and raised his own cube to his mouth.

They were in Orion's temporary residence in Kaon during his first ever visit there. It was small and impersonal, but they both preferred the privacy it offered compared to the gladiatorial block. Here they had peace and quiet and a much-desired chance to talk.

”Because like the strong and valiant, the weak and passive are a part of our society, and therefore equal. I don't think anyone is entitled to pick who is valuable and who is not. We must accept everyone or we can't do any better than the caste system.”

Megatron was unreadable. ”You would value everyone regardless their past, usefulness and skills?”

”I would,” Orion firmly said, nodding, and felt a pleasant rush of warmth when Megatron nodded back.

”But how about those who have been exploiting their power? How about the oppressors?” he challenged, a tightened string in his voice that Orion had learned both be alerted by and crave for. It was a challenge, and he was more than happy to raise up against it.

”They must be made equal to us. They must be taken down from the pedestal they have without earned merit been raised to, and the rest of us must be elevated. But even they are a part of Cybertron. They have a place here.”

”A rusted part,” Megatron coldly grunted. His bitterness ran deep.

Orion nodded. ”Maybe you're right. But a right to be and exist doesn't need to be earned, that is why it's a right. And rust can't be ever entirely stripped even if the power structure allowing it is. By letting people choose freely we also let them make wrong choices. And I think freedom is worth carrying the weight of those wrong ones.”

Megatron had a peculiar look in his optics and it made Orion feel an electric thrill. He held the gaze with great effort, and as the moments stretched Megatron's smile widened.

”You are such a pure creature, my dear friend,” Megatron all of sudden said almost softly.   
Orion hummed and couldn't stop a smile. ”Now you're just mocking me.”  
”No, I'm not. But what I said is true. You are hope in its purest form, my brother.”

*

Even to Orion's untrained gaze it was immediately clear that each gladiator had his own style of fighting. Stinger was loud and reckless, roaring with laughter and guiding each one of Soundwave's stabbing attacks aside as the lighter bot charged with a speed of wind and withdrew as quickly, dancing in star-like formation around his enemy.   
Dreadwing moved surprisingly quickly for a bot of his size and preferred to dodge Megatron's savage swings as opposed to locking blades with him. It was sensible considering how his light little dagger would have probably given like it was rusted to the core under Megatron's heavy sword. 

At first it didn't look like either team wanted to advance. Orion was confused by this until he realized the flags weren't really the point of this match. It was still an exhibition of skill and a spectacle of living energon, and the very first victory was for the one who drew the first leaking wound. His gaze jumped from one fighting pair to the other, trying to drink in everything at once.

Bots around him were chanting the names of their favorites, some even yelling out instructions and suggestions for where to strike, but to Orion the noise was just meaningless static. He felt restless and his spark was trying to collapse into itself in its chamber out of pure anxiety. He tried telling himself that Megatron was the reigning champion, that he was going to walk out of the arena even if not victorious, but the tight feeling in his spark didn't listen to reasoning. 

Stinger was crouched down with his swords protecting his frame as he tried to catch Soundwave with his tail. Soundwave looked light and swift, but it was nothing compared to what he actually could pull off in a fight: He was in his protoform yet looked weightless as he bounced around with his pedes barely touching the ground. 

Orion had his gaze fixated on the hypnotic stand-off and didn't snap out of it until the noise burst up in volume and a thunderous applause accompanied with the chant of ”Dreadwing! Dreadwing! Dreadwing!” blaring out.

Orion quickly sought out Megatron and Dreadwing who had put some distance between themselves. Dreadwing had his blade held high above his helm, gleaming with bright blue energon, and Megatron was turning slowly around, laughing and with his arms spread, showing to all four sides of the arena a slim yet long cut in his chassis, leaking energon. 

Orion felt sick in his gut. 

*

”This city is covered in filth,” Megatron said, leaning on the thick glass of the slim window of Orion's residence. Kaon was always surely veiled in pollution smog, its air full of industrial smoke that tainted the buildings, the streets and the people walking on them. Even the window they were looking through had black coal in the corners and a generous layer of smutch on it. 

Orion stood next to Megatron by the window. To him Kaon was oddly beautiful. The air wasn't good for his vents, but he loved the mysterious feel of it. He loved the scruffy fronts of the building, derelict roads where no traffic laws applied, the vast variation of creative solutions in maintenance with very limited resources, the bright neon lights that shone through the mist.

”Yes, it is,” Orion agreed because it was true. ”But it's beautiful.”

Megatron chuckled and threw him a strange look. Orion though he saw a glimpse of adoration in it but decided he was just confusing it with pity.  
”Of course you would say that, ” Megatron said and sounded like he truly meant it. ”But wait 'til you get to see the rest of Cybertron, maybe the rest of the galaxy. You won't even remember the little old Kaon then.”

”Oh, I'm sure I will,” Orion said. The words were hard for him to put through his vocalizer for he was constantly afraid of saying too much and making things hard for them. He felt the most peculiar mixture of selfless dedication to the people and on the other hand complete selfishness. He wanted to leave his own persona out of this and focus all their combined energy to hone their idea and use it for the benefit of all, but simultaneously also wished to simply forget about everyone else, keep Megatron to himself and just talk and talk and talk until there was nothing to be said anymore. 

”Kaon has a place in my spark,” Orion continued, ”it was here where I met you, and here where we started this. I won't forget Kaon and its beauty until the day I am deactivated.”

Megatron's smile was thin and lopsided, the look in his optics calm like he had never seen before. Megatron without his burning passion was less intimidating. Orion felt he could step a little bit closer, but Megatron was quicker and suddenly right in front of him. 

”We started... What, exactly?” he asked. 

*

Orion had been right about the first to draw energon. When the goal was reached both sides started to try advancing toward the enemy flags. 

From the very first moment was clear that Megatron and Soundwave had fought together many times before, Dreadwing and Stinger not so much. When the attack started Megatron and Soundwave both abandoned their individual opponents and united their strong points to fight together. As Megatron was bigger and heavier he seemed to be the core of the attack, the driving force meant to crush and maim anyone on his path, while Soundwave took him as his center point and danced here and there acting as a bait and Megatron's extra defender while also herding their enemies away from open paths towards their flags. 

Stinger seemed to quickly grow agitated. He let out frustrated roars and his movements grew broader every time Soundwave tempted him and jumped out of his reach just in time.   
Dreadwing was keeping his calm, still strictly concentrated despite his earlier small victory, and Orion admired how he didn't allow himself to be carried away from the fight that was far from over.

Soundwave advanced again, but as he was in mid-jump Stinger came up with an idea to stop trying to catch the small opponent with his swords and charged as well. Both bots were in on collision course and Soundwave found himself suddenly at a disadvantage. 

Orion's gaze flew to see how Megatron was going to save his friend only to find that he didn't. Soundwave and Stinger were clearly in his line of vision even if behind Dreadwing, who was forcing Megatron to take retreating steps back to his own side of the arena, but he didn't seem to care about Soundwave's situation enough to even keep his optics on it. 

Stinger and Soundwave met in the air, but the nauseating crash and screeching of bending metal never came. A small blade spun out through the transformation seams on Soundwave's forearm, he twisted his frame in the air and guided himself aside just enough that Stinger's giant servo flew past him, then jammed the blade almost to the hilt into it.   
Stinger let out a half surprised, half pained scream as the blade pierced through his plating and sank into the soft cords and wires underneath it. Soundwave continued his flight, his weight pulling the blade in the metal that gave out with a terrible ripping sound. More energon splattered around and on the nimble gladiator who landed perfectly on his pedes in the enemy's side of the arena while his opponent stumbled and fell on the ground, yelling and cursing. 

Orion felt relief settling in his spark. The feeling took him by surprise and prompted a burst of self-disgust. He had just watched a bot have his arm torn open and he felt relieved, maybe a bit glad about it. 

He took a look around in the crowd. Thundering noise had roared up again when the meeting of Stinger and Soundwave hit its climax. One had fallen, one had landed on their pedes. Stinger was scrambling up again despite the open wound on his arm, but despite the approximate functionality the limb was no more any good for holding a sword.

Slowly Orion realized he was happy for it. The wounded was a gladiator he didn't know and barely had even seen before today. Megatron could have been wounded like that.   
Orion realized he would be happy to see others suffer as long as Megatron didn't. 

*

When Orion met up with Jazz so they could travel back to Iacon together he felt strangely melancholic and didn't know why. Jazz had apparently had a splendid time neglecting his responsibilities with his friends and was in a very talkative mood, but Orion couldn't bring himself to partake in the conversation with full attention. They traveled by a magnetic train and he stared out of the window back at Kaon which was quickly disappearing behind them, sinking completely back into the mist with all its dirty secrets. 

Jazz noticed quickly that his friend wasn't really present and his chattering quieted down. Orion was paying enough attention to notice when the silence fell and tore his gaze from the city to meet the knowing optics of his friend.

”It was an interesting visit, I take,” Jazz chuckled. 

”Ah, yes, it was,” Orion answered and tried to take a last look at Kaon, but it was too late. He turned back to Jazz. ”Sorry. My mind wanders.”

”So it does. Nothing wrong with that,” Jazz said with good humor and winked. ”What romantic times of rebellion we're living, eh?”

Orion shifted uncomfortably on his seat and glanced around. ”You shouldn't talk like that. You never know who might hear, and then we could end up in a lot of trouble.”

”Oh, I don't know about that,” Jazz said with a mockingly thoughtful voice and tapped his lip plate. ”If we were ambushed and arrested now, we would just have to resist the arrest and make our way back to Kaon. That's what you'd like, wouldn't you?”

Orion felt awkward and his face plates heated up. He didn't know how to respond and turned out that he didn't have to, because Jazz burst into laughter.   
”It sure was an interesting exchange you and your friend had! Or... Are you friends yet? You weren't the last time I asked you.”

”I – I – Well, yes. I suppose we would be friends now,” Orion admitted with a hesitant smile. ”He has quite a few interesting ideas about things.”

Jazz didn't look convinced, but didn't argue about it either, just smiled and let the attempts at conversation be, leaving Orion to his thoughts. 

He really wanted to get off the train and return back to Kaon. The city had barely been left behind and already he missed it dearly. He didn't care to return to Iacon regardless of the fact that it was his home and everything he had ever known, the most safe and familiar place just for him in the world. Now he felt like there was nothing waiting for him in Iacon, and the closer they got there, the harder he felt the dull throbbing ache in his spark. 

He couldn't decide whether the pain was longing or regret. All the things he had almost said but hadn't and didn't know if he was happy or sad that he hadn't. Maybe he felt hollow and gloomy over last night, or maybe it was better this way, without rushing or complicating things this early. After all, Orion and Megatron hadn't yet known each other that long and had only just met for the first time face to face, and it wasn't as if Orion had felt like this before. He had no experience of how one was supposed to talk about feelings like this, or how to show them to another or what even was the appropriate way to do so. 

He looked down at his lap and turned his servo palm-up. He would like to touch Megatron with his servo. He would like to feel the touch returned. Just.... Just simply to reach out and wrap his digits together with Megatron's. His spark jumped.   
It was silly and idle thought, but it made him feel warm and good. He filed the dream away in the back of his processor. 

*

The battle was nearing its end. All four gladiators were on the brink of their stamina, all venting heavily and releasing steam, all bearing various wounds and carrying on purely on their rage and eagerness to fight. 

The teams were even, both having captured two of the enemy flags and still having one left. Megatron and Soundwave had lost their middle and right flags, Stinger and Dreadwing right and left.   
The sand of the pit was partially muddy of all spilled energon, and the strong scent of it along with burning oil and exhausted fuel hung heavy in the air and made Orion feel even sicker. His spark was spinning and pounding in its chamber and he was sitting on the very edge of his seat, leaning forward and turning his helm left and right trying to ease his worrying spark by keen observation. 

The crowd had also reached the final stage of the match and the cacophonic cries and cheers had transformed into a steady pounding on the floor and inciting rhythmic chant. 

Soundwave and Megatron stood side by side, Soundwave without a piece of his abdomen plating with his cords and circuits vulnerable and energon splattered across his front, Megatron bleeding from various small cuts to his seams by Dreadwing's small and precise blade. Neither one seemed to be feeling any pain. 

The final stand-off was taking place and both sides knew it. The chanting of the crowd crew more frantic, everyone thirsty for energon of the losing side. Orion laced his itching digits together.

Soundwave and Megatron took the offensive role and charged towards their opponents, who in turn rooted in place. Megatron let out a mighty roar of pure rage and suddenly reached to his left and snatched Soundwave up. It was unclear if his partner was expecting this or not, but he kept his balance none the less and was ready when Megatron flung him across the air towards Stinger. 

The crowd collectively gasped. The flight was slightly off course and Soundwave was about to fall short of his mark, and this didn't escape Stinger. With a triumphant cry he lunged forward towards Soundwave, leaving Dreadwing alone to defend their flag. 

”You're mine!” Stinger roared as his good arm and tail both attacked Soundwave. 

TERMINATE! TERMINATE! TERMINATE!  
went the crowd around Orion, unashamed, hungry and some even standing up.

Stingers tail reached Soundwave before the blade and struck him off of his pedes. Sand flew and ended up in the exposed machinery in Soundwave's front as Stinger laughed. A chilling sound of a drill pierced the air as the needle-like cruel instrument at the tip of Stinger's tail started to spin and aimed to the middle of Soundwave's visor. 

Soundwave's servos spun up and grabbed the tail and with the help of hidden motors in his arms thrust off the ground. The sudden movement made Stinger retreat his tail and it was that reflex that doomed him: Soundwave had the boost of his own motors and now the boost from Stinger himself. The light bot threw himself around the tail like a trapeze and landed on its base, right above Stingers spinal sprout. Faster than an optic could catch Soundwave had a blade in both wrists, and with those and the sharp talons of digits he had he begun to rip into Stingers vital nervous connections. Energon splashed and bits and pieces of circuits, wires and metal flew around as Stinger screeched. He tried to reach the bot on his back but quickly lost control of his limbs, all five of them falling limb and useless and the gladiator himself crashed face plate first into the sand. 

At the same time, Megatron's aggressive show of brutal force and flawless defense were forcing Dreadwing to retreat. He swung down blow after blow with his sword, seemingly tireless and as controlled as ever. 

The crashing noise of Stinger's fall was a sign and Megatron risked his steady footing by focusing along with a blow of his sword a heavy kick in the middle of Dreadwing's abdomen. The smaller one dodged the sword but the kick found its target, sending him staggering backwards. Megatron charged forward with his sword extended in front of him and as if out of thin air Soundwave appeared beside him, mirroring the attack. 

Dreadwing's dagger was cut in three neat little pieces by Soundwave's better equipment. For a moment their faces were mere inches apart, Dreadwing's widened red optics staring at Soundwave's featureless visor, and then the smaller bot ricocheted away like a bullet from a wall. 

Dreadwing had less than a klik to take in Megatron who came through all the defenses he had, sword forgotten by his side and the heel of his servo plunging from a low angle, slamming in the middle of his chassis with so great an impact it raised him off the ground. 

”THIS IS FOR MY CHASSIS, YOU PIECE OF SCRAP!” Megatron roared, his words loud and clear even over the noise of the audience. His movement carried on, Dreadwing helpless in the turmoil, and he jumped off the ground towards the middle one of the sharpened metal bars bearing the last one of the red flags.   
He slammed Dreadwing on the iron bar, the tip piercing the metal easily, and with both Dreadwing's weight and his own Megatron rammed the bar all the way through until his opponent's back touched the ground.

Dreadwing could just stare at the bar bursting out of his frame, glistening with bright blue energon, too shocked to speak or shout, his pedes twitching and sensors momentarily offline from the sudden influx on information.

Megatron ripped the last red flag from the bar, now soaking wet with energon, and raised it over his head. Soundwave came to his side, and together they raised their servos in the air as a sign of victory before slowly walking to their own side with the last flag. 

The crowd went wild. Every single bot stood up, cheering, whistling and chanting the names of the victors. 

To his shock Orion found himself standing as well, servos clasped to his chassis and venting hard due the released tension. His processor was swimming in conflicting emotions, in relief and joy, in shock and pity and empathy. He even felt nauseating ghost pain in his chassis as he looked at the impaled gladiator writhing in pain.   
And still the first and foremost emotion was relief for Megatron. It felt as if the mech had been dead on the moment he had stepped in the pit, and now in victory miraculously resurrected. 

Megatron let his gaze circulate in the crowd, proud grin on his face plates and looking for a familiar face, doubtful if his special guest had tolerated the spectacle until the end. Finally he found Orion, standing up all tense and shaken, looking at him.   
There was no admiration, but no fear either. Even despite their distance Megatron was certain that was joy he saw on his friend's face, and that was the thing that made the taste of victory sweeter than he had known before or would know ever again. 

Below the pits were corridors, sloping even deeper underground before rising up again several blocks away as guarded secret doorways. Gladiators and their maintenance crews used different ones than the customers. 

The gladiatorial corridors had several rooms along the way, such as small berthrooms for emergencies, weapons storages and, nearest to the pit itself, a large medical bay. None of the medics had any actual degrees to qualify them so instead they exercised techniques they had learned through trial and error and with instruments that were a curious mixture of actual real medical equipment, home-made stuff and some things meant for non-sentient machinery. Curiously though, Kaon's finest amateur doctors had a very high success rate and only first timers dreaded to be on the table.

A bot called Steelstar was in command of a small team of medics welcoming the gladiators fresh from the battle. He had four tables for four fighters but turned out he needed only two of them and there was no hurry with the repairs either. It was quite unusual for a match including Megatron to have no casualties or at least somebot needing emergency surgery, he noted.

Today's patients were more a cause for amusement than anything else. Steelstar took a feeder full of Shockwave's anesthetic drug and stabbed it straight into Dreadwing's intake pipe.  
”How did this happen, Dreadwing?” he laughed at the gladiator whose optics were already dimming as the drug kicked in. Someone of the clean up team had sawed the iron bar piercing the bot just below his back and left an arm's length of it sticking out of his chessa.   
It had missed the spark chamber and nothing was leaking out, so the wound was only uncomfortable, the actual damage minimal. 

Stinger was a tougher case, his main nervous connections severed. He would need loads of replacements until he would be fully functional again.

”You're not of Primus, Soundwave! You damned little scraplet,” Stinger said as three bots, one of them Soundwave himself carrying his tail, flopped him on the table. Soundwave only waved his servo and projected a bright yellow spinning spark on his visor. 

Steelstar took a sealant gun and started with Megatron, who had the least injuries. The mech sat on the operating table and waited patiently as Steelstar started applying the hot sealant on the damaged energon lines through the seams of the plating. 

”Quite a show you pulled out there,” Steelstar commented offhandedly. ”For someone special?”

Megatron chuckled. ”Someone in great need of education.”

”I see, I see, ”Steelstar conformed. ”Whatever the case, your special friend is waiting for you just outside.”

Orion was impatiently pacing in the corridor just outside the medical bay, and Megatron almost ran into him as he stepped outside. Orion's optics brightened at the sight of his friend but he frowned as he saw the condition the other was in.

”Are you alright?” he asked, eyeing the energon splatters on Megatron's frame.   
”Yes, I am quite alright. The medic wouldn't have let me out if I wasn't,” Megatron laughed, spreading his arms. ”But I am filthy. Care to join me in the wash-racks?”

Orion blinked up at him but then nodded and followed Megatron as he lead the way. 

The wash-racks wasn't far away, just around the corner and a level down. It was in a remarkable condition considering the state of the rest underground establishment. Metal was painted white, no sign of rust anywhere, the pipes were pristine and shining and the piles of dry towels looked clean. 

”This is a nice place,” Orion commented as he turned his helm and looked around.

Megatron just grabbed one of the towels with him and sough out an empty outlet from the back of the room. ”What? Did you think we bathe in the sewers or something?” Megatron asked.

”What - ? No, of course not!” Orion hurried to correct himself. ”I just - ” 

Megatron turned his helm showing the jesting grin on his face. Orion felt a rush of relief knowing he was just made fun of, and not having offended his friend. He smiled sheepishly. 

Megatron sat down on the place he had chosen and turned on the tap. Sitting down he was shorter than Orion, who was all of sudden very aware of this and the semi-intimate situation he had been lured in. His spark started to go on overdrive again and he feared his flustering would be visible. 

”So. What did you think of the fight?” Megatron asked as he started to wipe away the sand, mud and energon.

Orion clasped his servos together behind his back and swayed on his pedes. ”Well... It was certainly nothing like I've seen before,” he diplomatically said. 

Megatron gave him an amused but challenging look.

”It was... violent,” Orion continued and followed with his optics Megatron's servo's movements and how the towel was tainted blue. ”Very violent. And... I was, well, shocked. Not so much by the fight but by the audience.”

Megatron looked genuinely surprised and stilled his movements turning to face Orion properly. He let the towel fall on his knee.

”The audience? You've lost me, my friend.”

Orion nodded. The tap was still running, the fluid splashing on the floor and partially on Megatron's left shoulder. He found it was more difficult to collect his thoughts like this than in the streets or even a private room.   
”The crowd took... such unapologetic amusement in the fight,” Orion said. ”I mean... You were all leaking and hurting and... fighting for your lives. And the crowd just enjoyed it.”

”Yes, they did. They pay to see us fight to the death,” Megatron quietly said. ”It doesn't sound so bad, does it?”

Orion shook his helm. ”It is worse in reality.” 

They rarely agreed on anything this perfectly and somehow it gave him a burst of courage he didn't know he had. He gestured toward the towel near forgotten on Megatron's knee.  
”Do you need assistant?” he asked as casually as he could. ”You can't reach the back of your frame by yourself.”

Megatron smiled up at him and made a welcoming gesture with his servo. Orion stepped into the cubicle and sat down opposite of his friend, who handed the wet towel to him and shuffled closer. He wasn't going to turn completely around, just sat next to Orion with their thighs pressed together and leaned slightly back so he was giving as much space as possible for the other to wipe away the dirt.

Orion took the towel, wet it again under the stream and used both his servos as he touched it on Megatron's frame. He was still heated from the battle and it radiated to Orion's palms with such strength he almost dropped the towel. Somehow he managed to will his servos steady again and started to clean the mud and energon with slow, tender swipes. 

”And what about you?” Megatron asked.

Orion froze, confused and his spark attempting to supernova. ”What about me?”

”What did you think about the fight?” Megatron specified, and Orion's spark did a very strange flip of both relief and disappointment. 

”I...,” he started and hesitated. He didn't want to offend Megatron in any way, but he didn't know what he was hoping him for say or what the truth was anyway. His feelings were in chaos, and for various reasons.   
”I was afraid,” he finally said.

Megatron raised his optic ridges at him. 

”Don't get me wrong!” Orion hurried to add as he paid special attention to a large stain of energon and sand near Megatron's pelvic plates. ”I see you are a skilled fighter. You clearly have earned your reputation. But I... I was afraid that you were going to go offline permanently, and those bots would just cheer and forget about you. I feared I wouldn't speak with you again.”

They sat in silence for a while. Orion avoided Megatron's gaze as he washed the towel under the stream again and returned to swipe the plates in the back of Megatron's frame. Curiously washing the signs of the battle away made him feel better. 

”Thank you for your concern,” Megatron said and made a minimal bow to his direction. ”And thank you for your feelings, too. I see now for sure you are a worthy companion, Orion Pax of Iacon. You have witnessed the waste of life and the disgusting joy the privileged take from it. You have seen how rusted this world is. You can see.”

Orion felt like he had just heard something remarkable. They shared this flame, this passion to do something. They wanted change and they would bring it about. He smiled brightly and nodded.

”Also...” Megatron continued but turned away, shielding the full extend of his emotion. ”I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't go and deactivate without saying goodbye.”

Orion felt warm all over. “I know.”

“I'm serious,” Megatron said and turned to him, grasping Orion's right servo with his own. “I swear it to you. As long as there are unfinished business between you and I, I won't be deactivated.”  
Orion couldn't stop smiling and squeezed back. “To my best abilities, I promise this to you as well. I won't join the Allspark until I have said and done everything that needs to be done.”

They held each other's gazes and servos as long as was appropriate. Their vow was voiced in the lowly wash-racks under the pits of Kaon, and all future things considered, Primus himself must have heard it and decided the odd pair would see it through to full extent.


End file.
